Mysteries continue to pile up at our old house, “Squirrels’ Leap,” like broken limbs after the ice storm.
I
hesitate to blame it on a ghost, because I’m still not sure I believe
in ghosts. But there’s something fishy — well, squirrelly — going on at
Squirrels’ Leap.
Okay, here’s the latest.
During the ice storm, a
huge limb from our venerable elm tree fell and demolished the pergola
next to our breakfast room, which is in a one-story addition that joins
the old two-story house to the garage.
The branches also punched
several holes in the roof, and one skinny branch poked all the way
through the breakfast-room ceiling, where it is still part of our decor.
After
the ice storm, like a good homeowner, Doyle dragged a ladder over to
the one-story section and climbed up to spread a plastic tarp over the
shallow peaked roof of the breakfast room. He secured the tarp on the
north side of the house by hooking the grommets over nails, then draped
it over the peak of the roof and down the south side, where it
completely covered the holes and came neatly down over the entrance and
part of the smashed pergola, where he attached that side of the tarp.
One
day last week, after our insurance adjuster had come, my husband tore
down the ruins of the pergola, which left the south edge of the tarp
unattached.
A few nights later, a big windstorm came along. The wind
blew the tarp from the south side of the roof all the way over the
shallow peak, and left a big, wet wad of plastic hanging by one nail
over the edge of the north porch. To spread the tarp back out was going
to involve climbing back up onto the roof, which Doyle had every
intention of doing before it rained again.
My son Jamie, who had
been living with us temporarily, is always willing to lend a hand when
he’s not at work at one of his two jobs or out pursuing one of his many
other interests.
Friday, before we went upstairs for the night,
Doyle asked Jamie if he would mind taking Hagrid, our Great Dane,
outside one more time before going out later that evening. Jamie
cheerfully agreed.
The last time we looked Friday night, the tarp
was still hanging sloppily over the north edge of the porch roof, only
attached by one corner.
The next morning, Doyle looked out of our upstairs sitting-room windows, which overlook the breakfast-room roof.
“Jamie
must’ve climbed back up on the roof last night and spread that tarp
back out for me,” Doyle said with a big grin. “I really appreciate him
doing that for us. He must’ve done it late last night.”
I looked out the window to see the green tarp spread back over the whole section of roof, neatly smoothed out, no wrinkles.
Downstairs
a little while later, Doyle thanked Jamie enthusiastically for going up
on the roof in the dark the night before and spreading the tarp back
out for us.
Jamie looked blank.
“I didn’t fix the tarp,” he said,
puzzled. “When I took Hagrid out about 9:30 last night, it was still
all hanging down over the edge of the porch, just like it has been.”
We
were all just bumfuzzled. Jamie and I even walked out to see if the
ladder was where he had left it the last time he had used it, several
days before. It was — on the far side of Doyle’s shop building, lying
on its side.
Okay, we know Doyle didn’t get up on the roof and
spread the tarp out. I didn’t. Jamie didn’t. Ruby certainly didn’t. We
don't have a pet chimpanzee to do handy chores like that for us. The
only other alternative that occurred to us was that one of our friendly
neighbors had decided to do us a good turn and spread the tarp out for
us. But would anybody come over to a neighbor’s house late at night and
climb up a ladder and get onto their roof — in the pitch-black dark —
without letting them know they were going to be up there?
Oh, one
other possibility was that the wind blew the tarp back over the house.
But the wind couldn’t have spread it out perfectly neatly, with no
folds or wrinkles.
And I’m pretty sure the wind couldn’t have hooked
one of the tarp's small corner grommets back over the nail to hold it
in place.
Who spread the tarp back out on our roof? If you’re the
kind soul who did it, please call me at 743-0613 and let me know, so I
can thank you, and so the mystery will be solved.
If it wasn’t one
of our neighbors, who was it? The same “person” who bakes apple cakes
in an invisible oven to fill the house up with their aroma, and
snitches hard-boiled eggs out of our kitchen, and pushes our Christmas
tree over in the middle of the night, and plays faint music even when
the radio is off and walks across the floor in empty rooms?
We're still scratching our heads in puzzlement.
How in the world did our blown-off tarp get spread smoothly back out on the roof in the middle of the night?
The Mystery of Squirrels’ Leap continues ...

By Celia DeWoody
Copyright 2009 Harrison Daily Times

A powerful prayer for our children - from "St. Augustine's Prayer Book":

"O Heavenly Father, I commend the souls of my children
to thee.  Be thou their God and Father; and mercifully supply whatever
is wanting in me through frailty or negligence.  Strengthen them to
overcome the corruptions of the world, to resist all solicitations to
evil, whether from within or without; and deliver them from the secret
snares of the enemy.  Pour thy grace into their hearts, and confirm and
multiply in them the gifts of thy Holy Spirit, that they may daily grow
in grace and in knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ; and so faithfully
serving thee here, may come to rejoice in thy presence hereafter. 
Through the same Christ our Lord.  Amen."

Here are a handful of photos from our afternoon's jaunt down into the hills of Newton County, our favorite place to escape to on a Sunday afternoon. The thermometer was hovering right around freezing, just enough to rime the weeds in white .... as always, we found "sermons in stones" out in God's creation. Wish you could've come with us!

Hey, friends,
I've been away from Xanga for a while, and wanted to just peek in and say "Hey" to you all.
I don't have any photos to share today, but we're hoping to get out this afternoon after church into the woods. It's not looking too promising right now - a little light rain mixed with snow, and cloudy, but we're both jonesing for the woods, so we'll probably go anyway!
No special news  - I've been working at the paper every day, and some evenings when I have meetings. I also spend one evening a week working on that week's column. It was my turn to be in charge of today's Sunday paper, so that meant I worked about half a day yesterday (Saturday), too. Hmmm..maybe that's why I don't have much news except newspaper news!
Family news: Doyle's son Robert and his wife Christine are expecting a little boy, our first grandson (Robert Parker DeWoody) any day now! They live in Bradenton, Florida. They've been married a year, and already have three girls - Robert's Morgan and Madison, and Christine's Madison. So we're all every excited to have a boy join the crowd. Please keep them in your prayers.
Hope you all had a nice Valentine's Day with your sweethearts. Doyle and I were able to spend most of the afternoon and evening together yesterday after I got off work, and ended up driving over to Mountain Home to eat dinner. It's nice to be married to your best friend.
Next time, I'll update you on our ghost. He's done the weirdest thing yet this weekend!
Love to everybody,
Celia